Lullaby
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sara and Greg endure an unexpected loss. Sandle angst.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: Yes, here it is, another story. This is going to be very, very dark and angsty, so if you don't like that, I'd suggest the 'back' button. My handy-dandy beta reader is at work right now, so all mistakes are certainly mine. I love reviews!_

_Jenny_

**Lullaby:**

Sara adjusted the arm floaties on a two and a half year old Sadie's arms, leaning back to take in the appearance of her daughter, "You look beautiful."

"Go swimming?" Sadie asked, looking wistfully towards the adult wavepool, "With Daddy?"

Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, Sara replied, "No, sweetie, we're going to go play on the pirate ship. Let me put some more sunscreen on your face, though."

"Lotion!" Sadie replied giddily, leaning towards to smell the distinct smell of the white cream, "I like!"

Sara glanced at the clock, then back down at her daughter. It was getting close to lunchtime for the girls, but since arriving at the water park, she hadn't been able to get her husband or their oldest daughter away from the water long enough to mention it.

She squinted her eyes, barely able to see Greg and a six year old Chrissy in the deep end of the wave pool. Shaking her head worriedly, she turned to their younger daughter and held out her hand, "Ready?"

"Ready!" Sadie squealed, dragging Sara by the hand to the kid's section, which featured a large plastic pirate ship with squirt gun cannons, "Race you?"

"No!" Sara exclaimed quickly, "What have I told you about running?"

"No running!" Sadie mimicked, waving her finger in the air, "Water!" the toddler screeched, jumping up and down in the shallow wading pool.

Laughing, Sara followed Sadie towards the pirate ship, lifting her up so she could go down on of the slides, "Okay, Sadie, we have to be very careful."

"Careful!" Sadie replied, before quickly changing positions to go headfirst into the water.

Rolling her eyes, Sara stepped back a few steps to watch her daughter play.

She had never pictured herself with a child, let alone two. Chrissy had been a surprise, she and Greg had been engaged for nearly 6 months when a routine checkup revealed the presence of their first child. She had been in shocked, and Greg, well, Greg had nearly passed out. Sadie, on the other hand, had been planned after a brief period with depression that their first baby girl was growing up.

It had been no surprise that Greg would make a good father. He loved to play with the kids, he was a great negotiation, and Chrissy's self-proclaimed best friend. He had just the right mix of maturity to be a parent, as well as inner child to be fun. Sara, on the other hand, had a rough start adjusting to parenthood. The first year of Chrissy's life was spent with both girls in tears. By the second year, however, Sara had become and old pro at parenthood.

She looked up at Sadie, who was squealing with delight as she climbed the steps to slide down the slide again, face first into the water, giggling with delight as she looked up to Sara for approval.

"Please, be careful Sadie." Sara said quietly, turning away for a brief second to see if Greg and Chrissy had made it back to their table yet. Seeing only their bags and towels, Sara sighed and turned back to Sadie, who was now pulling on the cannon, trying to squirt her mother with the cold water.

Laughing, Sara pretended to duck from the water, which was still a good distance away from her, and maneuvered her way to Sadie, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "Want to go get something to drink?"

"Root beer?"

"If you want." Sara replied, leading Sadie away from the water.

Coming to the water park had been Greg's idea of a way to beat the summer heat while they were on vacation fro work. The whole idea of her young children in areas filled with water, and bacteria, had sent up red flags in her mind, but she had been unable to resist the pleas of not only her girls, but her husband as well.

Sara pulled the arm floaties off of Sadie's arms, placing them on the table. Helping Sadie climb into a plastic beach lounger, she handed her a cup filled a quarter of the way with root beer, "When you're finished, we'll go find Chrissy and Daddy for lunch."

"Slides?"

"After lunch, sweetie, I promise." Sara replied distractedly, studying the wave pool and frowning when she was unable to spot Chrissy's lime green bathing suit or Greg's familiar face. "I guess they went to one of the slides."

"Go on a slide?" Sadie asked, hopefully from the top of her cup, "Big slide?"

Sara smiled, brushing her daughter's brown hair away from her face, "Chrissy and Daddy can go on a big slide, because they're older. When you're older, you can go on one too. Right now, though, you need to play in the pirate ship."

"Watch Daddy and Chrissy?" Sadie asked hopefully, catching a glimpse of her sister and father and pointing excitedly, "Watch?"

Sara followed Sadie's finger to her husband and daughter's location. Grabbing Sadie's hand, she stood up, helping Sadie jump off the chair. "We can watch them, but we can't go on the slide."

"Okay!" Sadie squealed, starting to run. Sara lunged for her rambunctious two year old, grabbing her by the arm, "No running!"

As Sadie pouted, they wove through the people, stopping once Sadie found another wading pool, this one with a large mushroom that sprayed water into the air. "Water!"

Sara laughed, letting Sadie splash for a bit, relieved that she had forgotten about going to watch Greg and Chrissy. Watching usually led to wanting, which inevitably ended with a temper tantrum.

Before Sara realized what was going on, Sadie had turned away from the water, yelling out her sister's name before running in the direction of the "Lazy River", where Greg and Chrissy had been standing in line. Hearing Sadie's shriek, Sara took off running after her, finding a lot harder to navigate the people as an adult, as Sadie did in her small body.

Sara spotted Chrissy and Greg lounging in blue inner tubes while the slow current of the water led them through the "river". Furthermore, she spotted Sadie already nearing the fence surrounding the ride. Yelling for her daughter to stop did no good, and as Sara picked up her pace, so did Sadie.

"Daddy! Chris!" Sadie shrieked, leaning through the metal rails, "Daddy!"

The world seemed to move in slow motion as Sadie lost her balance, tumbling face forward into the water, just as Sara reached out to grab her. As the water splashed with Sadie's entry, Sara yelled for Greg, finally gaining the attention of both father and daughter.

Greg scrambled out of his tube, reaching Sadie's side quickly and pulling his precious daughter's face out of the water, her eyes closed. His eyes were wide with panic as chaos erupted around him.

Sara stood next to the rail, frozen with shock, until the notion to jump in and help finally dawned on her. She numbly hopped over the fence, landing on the water with a splash and waded towards her husband and daughter.

"Is she breathing?" Sara shouted, hysteria starting to sink in, "Greg! Do something!"

"I'm trying!" Greg snapped, his heart feeling as if it would burst from his chest. He was vaguely aware of the lifeguard who took Sadie from his arms, laying her on his platform as he tried to resuscitate her.

Sara started to tremble, barely aware as Chrissy clung to her waist, burying her head into her mother's warm skin, tears mixing with water. Her heart raced as she stared wide eyed at the lifeguard, not thinking clearly enough to do anything but watch with baited breath.

Greg had knelt down beside the lifeguard, following instructions that the lifeguard was rapidly shouting out, briefly looking at his wife and oldest daughter with sheer terror in his eyes.

Neither was sure how much time passed between the moment she fell in and the time the paramedics arrived, but both clearly heard the reading as the paramedic declared their baby girl deceased at 12:13 p.m.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes: Here's chapter two, and it's a little slower moving than chapter one was (don't know if that's a blessing or not)...next chapter should delve a bit more into the angsty side of things...let me know if you're reading!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

Greg walked to the doorway, shakily wiping tears from his cheeks as he watched Chrissy fitfully sleep, clinging to her teddy bear as she rolled from her side to her back, then to her other side. He had been watching her for over an hour, afraid that if he turned his back, something may happen to her as well.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he leaned against the wall, his hand pressed against his mouth as he choked back a sob. He couldn't fall apart right now, he family needed him to remain strong. He had to be the support for Sara and Chrissy, and under no circumstances could he allow himself to crumble under the pressure. It was his duty as a father, a husband, a man.

Sara had been eerily calm as the day shift coroner's assistant had loaded Sadie's pale body onto a black padded gurney, and surprisingly shed a minimal amount of tears as Chrissy asked a streaming line of questions, trying to understand what had happened to her little sister. They had drove home in silence, Sara disappearing into the house before both Chrissy and Greg had unfastened their seatbelts. She hadn't been seen since.

Greg's initial reaction was to follow his wife and try to gauge her state of mind. He knew her well enough to know that even though she wasn't crying and openly hysterical, her heart could still be breaking inside. He had decided, however, to give her some space and let her grieve in her own way while he tried to maintain Chrissy's evening routine of bathing, eating, and brushing her teeth.

Exhausted, Chrissy had gone to sleep early and Greg had been too fretful to leave her alone until he was sure she would be able to sleep. He walked to the window, looking out over their back yard with a heavy sigh. Their green grass was scattered with toys belonging to both Chrissy and Sadie, and through watery eyes, he realized he'd have to go through those toys at some point and store what had belonged to Sadie. As he wiped moisture from his cheeks, he wondered if he even possessed enough strength to do that.

It was no secret that Sara was the leader of the family. She made the rules, she disciplined the children, she handled the money and the decisions. That was the way had it been since they had moved in together, and Greg was more than happy to relinquish that control. He had always been the happy, relaxed parent, regarded by Chrissy and her friends as "wickedly cool". As he fought nausea, he began to wonder if he had been too concerned with Chrissy, and not enough with Sadie.

It was clear that Chrissy favored her father, while Sadie was always at Sara's side. It wasn't a conscious decision by either Sara or Greg, it was just something that had happened. If he had been watching Sadie, would this accident have happened? Would he have let her get away?

Fiercely wiping away tears, he shook his head bitterly. He couldn't play the blame game, this was not Sara's fault. It was an accident. If it had been done on purpose, his wife would be sitting in the interrogation room at LVPD. As quickly as his mind jumped to Sara, it rebounded back to him. If he had been paying attention, maybe he could have gotten to her in time. He had heard the shouts, but had figured that Sara had brought her to watch. He had barely acknowledged the child as he listened to Chrissy recount her class field trip to the zoo. It wasn't until he heard Sara's terrified voice that he realized there was a problem.

He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to close his eyes again without seeing his baby girl face down in the water.

--

Catherine walked into the lab, immediately noticing the tense silence that filled the halls. She made her way to the break room, taking a seat as she sipped the iced coffee she had picked up on her way in.

She had only read the first page of the newspaper when Nick and Warrick walked in, talking animatedly to each other, wide smiles on both of their faces. While their teasing banter eased the tension a bit, Catherine could still feel it's ominous presence in the air.

"What's up, Cath?" Warrick asked, sitting across from her, "Had a good night off with Lindsey?"

"We went to the movies." Catherine replied quietly, "It's quiet around here today."

Nick was quiet for a moment before shrugged, "Hadn't noticed, but I suppose you're right."

Catherine's apprehension was confirmed when Grissom walked into the room a few moments later, his face solemn.

"Head up, guys, we've got a busy night." Grissom spoke quietly, handing each CSI a slip of paper, "We're still shorthanded, so we'll probably have to double up on cases."

Nick was the first to voice the group's silent question, "I thought Greg and Sara were coming back from their vacation tonight?"

"There's been a change of plans." Grissom replied, his voice catching slightly, "They'll probably be out for awhile."

Grissom's emotional response didn't go unnoticed by the team, and after a brief silence, Catherine tentatively asked, "Are they okay?"

Grissom sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, "There was an accident...Sadie--Sadie was killed this morning."

A deafening silence fell over the room as Grissom's statement fell on the ears of the CSIs. For a moment, no one moved or spoke.

After a few minutes had passed, Warrick asked softly, "What happened?"

"She drowned. Day shift processed the scene, she was gone before the paramedics arrived. I really don't know much more than that."

Catherine spoke next, her voice hollow as her heart beat rapidly, "How are Greg and Sara taking it? Chrissy?"Her voice trembled as she spoke, she couldn't bear to imagine losing her own daughter.

Grissom shook his head, giving them a small shrug, "I don't know. You guys get out there and handle your cases, I'll call to check on them if it makes you feel any better?"

"I can't believe it." Nick muttered, standing and walking to the door, glancing down at his assignment sheet. "Poor Sadie."

With a heavy sigh, Warrick followed suit, sadly shaking his head as he made his way to the locker room. They investigated the deaths of children constantly, but it felt this depressing. Leaning his head against the cool metal of his locker, he said a small prayer that the Sanders family could make it through this loss.

--

His heart broke as he creaked open the door to Sadie's room, instantly spotting his wife curled into a ball in the corner of the room. She held a battered black and white teddy bear close to her chest, and he instantly recognized it as a gift he had given her the day they found out she was pregnant. It had been Sadie's favorite toy, and it had definitely seen it's fair share of better days.

He didn't want to startle her, so he gently cleared his throat. He was surprised to see her face dry of tears when she looked up towards him. Patting the floor beside her, she motioned that it was okay for him to join her.

He sat down, leaning against the wall, struggling to keep his tears at bay. Sara had the notion to let Sadie decorate her own bedroom, leading the pale pink walls to be covered with Barbie wallpaper border, 'Curious George' and 'Dora the Explorer' posters, and 'Scooby Doo' pictures won from the carnival they had attended earlier that year. She still had the worn 'Disney Princess' comforter and sheets on her toddler bed that had been purchased before she had been born. Her presence was felt so deeply in the room that Greg was certain he could nearly smell her.

Stealing a glance at Sara, who was staring at the bedroom with a dazed expression, he spoke softly, "Do you need anything?"

"Nothing you can give me." Sara replied with a cracking voice, her calm facade crumbling for just a moment to reveal pain on her pale face. Within seconds, the wall had been reconstructed, and the only sign that she was feeling the loss of her daughter was the white knuckles that tightly grasped the small teddy bear.

Sara's resilience was the final push Greg needed to release a floodgate of emotion. Dropping his head into his knees, he began to painfully sob, his sorrow, guilt, anger, and disgust at the situation too powerful to handle. He hated himself for being weak, he hated Sara for being so strong, he hated the world for taking his daughter away from him.

He wasn't sure what he had expected to come from his outburst, but Sara's response not only shocked him, but angered him as well. Letting the bear fall to the floor, she stood up on trembling legs and silently walked out of the door, shutting the door behind her. Unable to control the surge of emotions that he had started to unleash, Greg only sobbed harder, adding the silent pain of rejection to the many heartbreaking feelings soaring through his veins.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: Thank you to Emmithar for harrassing me to write this, and thank you to XM Radio's Country stations to provide me with enough depressing songs to actually get it done. _

_I appreciate everyone's comments to the last chapter, you guys are amazing! _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Three:**

Grissom glanced up as his door flew open, a fiery brunette storming into his office, "You have to give me a case."

"You're still on personal leave." Grissom commented calmly, "You shouldn't be here."

Sara shook her head vigorously, "I'm not leaving until you give me some work."

"I can't do that, Sara, go home and spend some time with your family." Grissom responded quietly, "You can't work right now."

"Give me a case." Sara said harshly, her hands pressed down firmly on Grissom's desk as she leaned in with a hard glare. When he didn't respond, she slammed her hands down angrily, "Damn it Grissom! Just give me a case!"

Grissom shook his head with a heavy sigh, "No, Sara, I can't have you going into the field like this. You have to show me that you can think with a clear head before I'll give you an assignment."

"Damn it, Gris!" Sara yelled, pushing away from his desk and pacing the room, "Give me something to do! I can't just sit here, put me to work!"

Grissom stood, walking over to a trembling Sara, "You need to calm down. Where's Greg? You should be at home with your daughter and your husband...have you eaten?"

"Don't tell me what I should be doing! You have no idea what we're going through! If I sit in that house for one more minute, my brain will explode! You've got to get me something to do. I'll review cold cases, I'll assist in the lab, I'll shine your shoes if that's what it takes...Grissom, you've got to help me here."

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sara, this is non-negotiable. No supervisor in their right mind would let one of his employees work the same night they lost a child. No one! Burying yourself in work won't fix your problems, you can't hide from the situation."

"I'm not asking you as an employee," Sara pleaded, "I'm asking you as a friend."

The room was silent as they stared at each other, silently willing the other to back down. After a few minutes, Grissom shook his head with a sad sigh, "You can tag along with me on a homicide, but you're taking notes, that's all. Nothing hands on, do you understand?"

Her response was quiet, yet filled with gratitude, "Thank you."

--

He had only been able to cry when Sara walked out of the room, away from not only from the situation, but him as well. The slamming of their front door had been enough to drive him to heart-wrenching sobs, the mixture of the two bringing a sleepy Chrissy from her bedroom.

She had timidly opened the door to Sadie's bedroom, her eyes wide as she stared at her father openly sobbing on the pale blue carpet. Pale and frightened, she took a few small steps to her father before dropping to her knees, slowly crawling the last few feet towards his shaking body.

He didn't look up as her slender arms snaked their way around his neck, her soft tone pleading, "Daddy, please stop crying, Daddy!"

He pulled her close, sobbing harder as her own warm tears slid onto his shoulder, her hand patting his shoulders gently as she sobbed, "It's going to be okay, Daddy, It's going to be okay."

Greg loathed himself as he sobbed into the child's long brown hair, holding her tightly to his chest. He should be comforting her, comforting Sara. He wasn't supposed to be falling apart like this. He shouldn't have to rely on his six year old child for support. His body shuddered with another sob as he felt Chrissy's tears soaking his shirt. He should be tucking her into bed, reassuring her that things would work out, he shouldn't be relying on his daughter to take his pain away.

Nearly choking on her own terrified sobs, the child maintained her mantra, "It's going to be okay, Daddy, It's going to be okay."

He managed to choke back his tears long enough to convince the child she had done a good job taking care of him, and on shaky legs he carried her back to her bedroom, laying her down and covering her up, "Go back to sleep, okay sweetheart?"

"Where's Mommy?"

"I don't know, baby." Greg replied, his voice cracking, "She'll be back soon, though." he whispered, praying he was correct in that assumption, "You get some sleep now, okay?"

"Okay." Chrissy replied, her eyes already growing heavy. She squeezed Greg's hand softly, whispering, "I love you Daddy."

Stroking her brown hair, Greg replied with trembling lips, "I love you too, Chris, always and forever."

After gently shutting Greg's door, he made his way back to Sadie's room, pushing open the door and stepping into the pink room. He made it as far as her bed before collapsing to his knees in tears again, laying his head down on the pink bedspread and inhaling deeply as his body began to violently shake with emotion once more. He didn't bother to wipe the tears as they fell, knowing they'd soon be replaced with more.

What was he supposed to do now? Last night he had knelt in this same spot as he softly sang "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" for the 20th time, this very morning he had sat on the floor, changing her pull-up as he excitedly talked about how much fun they'd have playing in the water. In an instant, everything had changed. His daughter was gone, his wife had abandoned her family in their time of need, and he was left alone and confused.

--

The ride had been silence, leaving Grissom plenty of time to reflect on his decision to let Sara tag along. Since he had learned of the accident, he had been concerned about how the young couple would handle such a loss. He had expected Sara to come to him, begging for work, and it hadn't surprised him that she was carrying around a sheath of anger when she did reach out. She had always been one to bury herself in her work when a problem arose, it was part of her coping mechanism, and at least if she was with him someone would be keeping an eye on her.

He watched as she strummed her fingers anxiously against the door, studying the landscape as they drove through a stretch of endless desert.

Sara's phone vibrated in her pocket, breaking the silence, and with an angry sigh, she yanked it out and pressed the button, "What?"

"_Where are you?" _

Even without hearing the man's scratchy, worn voice, Grissom could tell it was Greg by the way Sara's body instantly tensed, her jaw tightening.

Sara stared out of the window, ignoring Grissom's questioning gaze as she snapped, "It's really none of your business."

"_You left without telling me."_ Greg replied softly, _"I'm just worried about you."_

"I don't need you to worry about me, I'm fine." Sara insisted, her voice hard and angry, "Just leave me alone, Greg."

"_Fine?"_ came his incredulous response, _"I'm sorry, I could have sworn that you were there this afternoon when our daughter was pronounced...well, pronounced. And 12 hours later, you're fine? I find that a little hard to swallow."_

"I'm not having this conversation with you right now." Sara replied, trying to keep her voice from rising, but failing miserably.

"_Well it must be nice to care so little about your family!"_ Greg shouted, regretting his choice of words as his call was cut off and he was left in silence.

Sara slammed her phone closed, refusing to meet Grissom's inquisitive gaze. After a few moments of tense silence, she muttered, "It's none of your business."

"I didn't say anything." Grissom replied calmly, further irritating the infuriated brunette.

Sara leaned back against the seat, her arms folded across her chest, "Well, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't say anything." Sara snapped, "Don't examine me like one of your specimens."

Grissom stared ahead, motioning towards the flashing lights, "Can you cool down by the time we arrive to the crime scene?"

"I'm perfectly calm." Sara snapped, unsnapping her seatbelt and tossing it over her shoulder.

Grissom resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he put the car into park, watching as Sara hopped out of the car and walked towards Brass, who looked utterly shocked to see her. Shaking his head, he began to wonder what he was thinking.

Shaking his head, Brass looked from Sara to Grissom, "It may be a good idea for Sara to sit this one out."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here. I'm perfectly fine to work, and I'd be great if everyone would stop treating me like some porcelain doll they're scared of breaking." Sara snapped angrily.

Holding his hands up and backing away, Brass shook his head, "Okay, okay, it was just a suggestion. If you think you're up for it..."

Sara stormed off ahead of Grissom, who gave Brass a questioning look before following in the fiery brunette's trail, "Sara, wait up! Remember what I said, hands off tonight, okay?"

He stopped short in the doorway, seeing Sara's pale face. He didn't have a chance to question her sudden reluctance to enter before the brunette whimpered softly, collapsing into Grissom's arms, unconscious.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: Thank you for all who have read and replied to the first three chapters...I appreciate and look forward to your input! Replies encouragetimely chapters...Thank you!_

_Jenny_

**ChapterFour:**

Greg was sitting at the kitchen table when the front door open, the familiar silhouette of his wife illuminated by the moonlight as she stumbled into the dark house.

His troubled attempt at sleep had been interrupted by Grissom, who had told him there was an incident at a crime scene and Sara was pretty shaken up. He hadn't gone into details, but had told Greg to expect Sara home soon. This was 5 hours ago, and after calling her cell for the 18th time, he had been rudely instructed to stop bothering her.

She fumbled a bit in the doorway, finally shutting the front door and latching the lock behind her. Tossing her keys onto the table, she stumbled to the couch, flopping down with a loud sigh.

"I didn't think you'd bother showing up here tonight." Greg said quietly from the dark kitchen.

Sara was silent for a moment, before replying in a cold voice, "I live here."

"Could have fooled me." Greg muttered, standing and moving towards the living room, "We need to talk."

Sara remained silent, and Greg took a shaky step towards the couch, suddenly nervous about the conversation he had been rehearsing for hours.

"You've been drinking." It was more of a statement than an observation, he had been able to smell the mixture of stale cigarettes and vomit the moment she had walked through the door.

Sara shrugged, the movement barely detectable in the black shroud of night, replying softly, "What's it to you?"

"Grissom called."

Those two words exponentially magnified the tension already present in the room, yet Sara's voice remained quiet, yet lethal, "It wasn't a big deal."

She stood, walking towards the bathroom with a scowl on her face. As she neared the door, she turned back to look at her husband, still entrapped in the darkness, "He shouldn't have called."

Before Greg could respond, she disappeared into the bathroom, the faucet beginning to run a few moments later.

She stepped into the bathtub, shakily sitting as she turned on the hot water. She could still feel the pain, indicating she hadn't been as drunk as she had originally presumed. Drawing her knees to her chest, she exhaled deeply, her head already starting to ache. She hated to push Greg away, she could see the raw pain in his eyes with every cold word she spoke, but there was just no other way to escape the reality of this situation.

The crime scene had been a complete nightmare. The moment she walked in the door, she was met with the overwhelming stench of copper and urine, and in the foyer alone laid two bodies. She had been in scenes more pungent and brutal than this had been, but the thing that upset her the most was that her victims were both children, slain in their own homes. Her head felt light and her stomach churned, and the next thing she knew she was laying on the ground, both Brass and Grissom hovering over her with concerned expressions on their faces.

Again, as she vividly recalled the crime scene, she realized she was entirely too sober to make it through the night. Grissom had taken her back to the lab, instructing her to go home and get some rest, but she knew that his suggestion would be impossible without something to calm her nerves. She had stopped at a bar by her house for one beer, although it had grown to many, many more over the following hours. Not surprisingly, they hadn't helped at all. The alcohol had made her emotions easier to resurface, only forcing her pain to bubble at the surface. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to keep everything bottled up inside, yet she was scared to let it out, because that would make this nightmare a reality.

It wasn't just that they lost Sadie, it was the additional reminder that Sadie was killed while Sara should have been paying closer attention to her. I twas that she stood rooted to her spot while Greg tried to save their daughter's life. Sadie was her responsibility, she should have been more careful with their baby girl. Because of her incapabilities as a parent, their child was taken from them. All she had to do was watch her for a few hours while Chrissy and Greg had their fun, but she hadn't even managed that. Tears stung her eyes as guilt washed through her, another painful reminder that it would have taken the entire alcohol supply of Vegas to drown this heartache.

A soft knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts, and she was too tired and weak to argue when Greg let himself in, taking a seat on the closed toilet, studying her pale face carefully, "We can't do this."

"Do what?" Sara replied, trying unsuccessfully to sound forceful. She wasn't ready to talk to him, to unleash the pain that would certainly ooze from her pores once the cold reality sank in. If they were angry, fighting, she could keep the memories, the images at bay and focus only on now. She turned her head away from Greg's watchful gaze, and instead stared at the wall of the tub, closing her eyes as her head painfully throbbed.

Greg was silent for a moment, trying to find the words he had practiced so well earlier. At a loss, he stated quietly, "We have to talk about this. Shutting each other out isn't going to fix anything. Drinking won't solve anything. Ignoring me won't help anything."

"Nothing we do will change the past, Greg." Sara said quietly, refusing to let tears well in her tired eyes, "You can't bring back Sadie, and neither can I. She's gone, Greg. Talking won't change that. Crying won't change that. Rationalizing won't change that. Nothing will change it. She's gone, forever."

"Don't you think I already know that?" Greg asked, standing angrily. "Damn it, Sara, look at me! What do I have to do to prove to you that you can trust me?"

Sara shook her head, "This isn't about you, this about our daughter!"

"Then why the hell are you punishing me?" Greg shouted, his voice echoing in the small room, "I'm not asking for much, I just want you to open up to me. I need to talk about this, I need to feel this, I need to accept this so I can take care of Chrissy, you, our family!"

Sara turned her bed to look at Greg's streaked face, before replying quietly, "I don't really care what you want. What part of 'This isn't about you' did you not understand?"

"You know what?" Greg asked furiously, his eyes lighting up with anger, "When you finally decide to start caring about people besides yourself, Chris and I may have already moved on without you." Giving Sara a disgusted look, he swung open the door, shaking his head bitterly, "I'm going to bed."

Once alone, Sara buried her head in her knees and began to sob.

--

Greg crawled into his cold bed, a mixture of fear and anger causing his heart to pulse rapidly as he stared at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes. He understood that everyone grieved in different ways, and that he couldn't judge Sara by her current mood, but he was so fed up with getting the cold shoulder that he wasn't sure he even wanted to remain in the same house with her. What could he have possibly done to make Sara so angry with him?

There was the obvious reason...he hadn't reacted quickly enough the moment he heard Sadie's shrill voice. He hadn't been able to revive their daughter. He hadn't been able to be the pillar of strength for their crumbling family. None of this, however, was enough to bring such venom from his normally loving wife.

He understood that this day would change both of them forever, but never in his wildest dreams did he think that it would pull them completely apart from each other.

He wasn't sure how long he had stared at the white dots on the ceiling, but at some point Sara silently staggered into bed, the bar smell gone, replaced with lavender and peppermint. He had bought her that shower gel, it almost felt as if she was wrong to use it while they were fighting. She laid on her side, watching the green numbers change on their alarm clock. Both knew that the other wasn't asleep, but neither made a move to speak. Eventually, both managed to drift into a light slumber, the room thick with unspoken words.

--

Sara's eyes sprang open as she let out a small shriek, Sadie's face still vividly clear although the nightmare had ended. She realized she was going to be sick a few moments too late, and although she rushed to make it to the bathroom on time, she vomited once outside the bathroom door, and twice more into the small sink. Lowering her head into her arms, she fought to keep both her tears and nausea at bay.

While she hadn't had drank enough to erase her memories, she surely had drank enough to wind up hungover and miserable.

He was pulling back her hair and leading her gently to the toilet before she could tell him to leave her alone, but as he wet a rag, pressing it against the back of her neck, she realized she didn't necessarily want him to leave. The unexpected comforting was more calming than she ever would have anticipated, and as she was sick once more, she could barely remember why pushing him away was such a great idea.

Both were nearly certain that she'd close up again once she sobered up, but for now, both absorbed the closeness of their once solid relationship that was now weathering away.

And as she sat on the cold, tiled floor, wrapped in her husband's arms, she began to weep.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's been reading, I enjoy hearing your comments! I will try to have more posted this week, but if I don't, there won't be a new chapter until after the 22nd, when I get back from my vacation. Please let me know what you think!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Five: **

"Daddy? Momma?" Chrissy questioned quietly from the doorway, "Daddy?"

Greg forced his eyes open with a soft groan as he glanced at the clock. Seeing the time, he tiredly trudged out of bed, careful not to disturb Sara, who needed the rest more than he did.

"Morning Chris." Greg said quietly as he met Chrissy in the doorway, "Did you sleep okay?"

"Are you and Mom done fighting?" Chrissy asked softly, "I heard you yelling last night."

Following Chrissy to the living room, he sighed heavily, "We didn't mean to wake you up, sweetie. Mom's just..."

"Sad." Chrissy supplied as Greg fumbled for the right word to use, "So am I. But I'm not yelling."

Sitting on the sofa, Greg pulled the child into his lap, "Sweetie, everyone handles their sadness differently. Right now, Mom is confused over what to do, and she doesn't realize that how she's behaving isn't the right way to do it. We just need to remind her that we love her very, very much. Can you do that?"

"I guess I can, Daddy." Chrissy replied, hugging Greg tightly, "I don't just love Mom, I love you too."

"I love you more than you'll ever imagine, Chris." Greg murmured into her hair, "Want to cuddle for a bit?"

Chrissy nodded, laying her head on his shoulder, both enjoying the comfort of a loved one.

--

Sara slowly opened her eyes, frowning as she spotted the sun peeking through the dark curtains. Her head was still heavy with sleep, her eyes burning as an aftereffect of the many tears she had shed earlier that morning.

She hated herself for breaking down, for having to rely on Greg to calm her down and all but tuck her into bed. It wasn't his place to comfort her, it wasn't his place to tell her everything would get better. She should be caring for him, giving him solace from the grief. Grief that she was responsible for causing.

With a soft moan, she slowly sat up, her head swimming with dizziness. Thinking back to her overindulgence of alcohol, she made a silent pledge to never drown her sorrows again. She knew that the possibilities of keeping that pledge were slim to none, but the hangover was definitely not worth it.

She glanced at the clock once she had her bearings straight, surprised to see that it was nearly lunchtime. It had been ages since she had slept for more than just a couple of hours at a time, and the sudden change was making her tired and weak, longing for another escape from reality. She could hear the distinct sounds of "Spongebob" coming from the living room, and with a tired moan, she fell back onto her pillows. She couldn't deal with this right now.

She had almost drifted back to sleep when the bedroom door opened and Greg walked in, carrying a tray topped with toast and juice. Not in the mood to pretend to be okay, Sara kept her eyes closed, hoping he'd leave without wanting to talk.

Nothing in her life had ever been easy. This was no exception.

"Sara, sweetie, wake up." Greg whispered, "I brought you some breakfast."

Sara pulled the blankets tightly around her, moaning quietly through a raspy voice, "Go away."

Despite her protests, he sat beside her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder, "You need to eat. Chrissy's asking about you, she misses you."

"Go away!" Sara replied harshly, trying unsuccessfully to push him away, "I'm not hungry."

Greg sighed, rubbing his temple with his left hand, "Sara, sweetie, I know you're--

"You don't know!" Sara replied animatedly, throwing her covers off as she flew into a sitting position, "You may think you do, but you don't. I don't even want to hear this right now. I'll eat when I'm hungry. I don't need you to baby me, I'm not Chrissy! For God's Sake, Greg!"

A timid knock on the door cut off Greg's response, and with a trembling hand, Chrissy walked into the bedroom, "Mommy? Daddy? Mr. Grissom is on the phone."

"Hello?" Greg asked, his voice carrying a bit of controlled anger. After a few moments, he exclaimed loudly, "What!"

He was quiet for a bit before sighing and hanging up the phone, motioning towards Sara, "Get dressed, we need to go down to the station."

--

"Sara, if you'll follow me..." Brass said quietly, leading Sara into one room, while a day shift detective led Greg into another. In the hallway, Nick had been entrusted with Chrissy's well being until her parents were finished.

Sara silently followed Brass into the interrogation room, taking a seat across from the man confusion etched on her face, "What's going on?"

"I have a few questions for you...about Sadie."

When the older man spoke, the pain and remorse he was battling internally flowed from his words. He hated to have someone he worked so closely with on the "suspect side" of the table, especially when he knew that the day shift's so-called "evidence" could not possibly be right. Sara and Greg were both good people, they didn't deserve any of this heartache.

He saw the pain flash across her face, but almost instantly she had detached herself from it, assuming a calm, collected expression as she waited for him to continue.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke softly, "Sara, off the record, I'd like to think that I've worked with you long enough to know you pretty well."

"I'd agree."

"We're just following up on some information day shift gathered...Ecklie's insistence, since you and Greg both work for the crime lab, and he wants to make sure everything is done strictly by the book."

"I've got nothing to hide." Sara replied, placing her hands on the cold table, "You can start rolling tape."

Brass nodded solemnly, pressing record while he quietly dictated the essential information into the black and silver device. Laying it flat on the table, he spoke in a business tone, forcing all sentiment out of his voice, "State your full name."

"Sara Sidle Sanders."

"Are you aware of your rights and do you understand that this conversation is being recorded for possible examination by the court of law?"

"I do." Sara replied, clenching her fist slightly as a slight panic started to rise in her chest. What could they possibly have found that they needed to question her on? Sadie's death was an accident. Blinking back tears, she forced herself to take a calming breath. She and Greg had done nothing wrong, aside from the fact that they hadn't had quick enough reflexes to save their daughter.

Brass gave Sara a sympathetic smile as he pushed a file folder towards her, "Can you identify this person?"

Sara took the folder with shaking hands, opening it to reveal her youngest daughter, pale and still on the cold metal slab she had grown accustomed to seeing daily. "Y...yes, this is my daughter, Sadie."

"Full name?"

"Sadie Marie Sanders."

--

"Sadie Marie Sanders."

"Mr. Sanders, do you and your wife ever fight?"

Greg looked towards the detective with wide eyes, "Argue? Yes, what couple doesn't? Physically fight, never."

"Have you ever physically assaulted your children?" The detective shot back, "Maybe they cried a little too long, wanted a toy a little too much? Pulled you out of bed before you were ready? Or maybe you just resented them for taking private time away from you and your wife?"

Greg slammed his hands on the table, his eyes bright with fury, "I have never, _never_ raised my hand to either of my children. I love both Chrissy and Sadie, I'd never hurt either one of them."

"Yet you neglected to take care of your child, resulting in her death."

"I wasn't watching Sadie, Sara was."

"Has your wife ever physically abused your children, to the best of your knowledge?"

"Never!" Greg exclaimed, "We _both_ love our children."

The detective fell silent, and Greg felt tears burning his eyes. Wasn't it enough that they had lost a child? Now they were being treated like common criminals and they hadn't done anything wrong. Angrily wiping away his hot tears, Greg couldn't help but worry about Sara. She was already at a breaking point, what would this interrogation do to her?

"The coroner found evidence that suggests long-term physical abuse of your daughter. Can you explain this?"

--

"Abuse?" Sara whispered, her eyes wide and her face pale, "I would never...Greg would never..."

"Does Sadie go to day care? Private babysitter? Who watches her while you two are working?" Brass asked gently, seeing that Sara was on the brink of completely falling apart. Reaching across the table to steady her trembling hand, he pressed, "Have you ever observed any aggressive behavior with any of her other childcare providers?"

Sara shook her head, wiping away a few tears that had started to trail down her cheeks. She spoke softly, trying to remain calm, but failing rapidly, "She...she goes to one of those Montessori Preschools in the mornings. We...we pick her up at lunchtime and spend time with her until Chrissy gets home. We have a babysitter that stays with them during the night, but both girls are already in bed when she arrives. Her name's Lauren...Lauren Thompson. I have her address and everything. We checked her out before we hired her, she's got great references. A good kid...early 20s...trying to work her way through college."

Brass fell silent as Sara began to sob, lowering her head onto the table as her emotions bubbled to the surface. He quietly stood, moving towards the door and whispering to the officer on duty to get her a cup of water and that they'd need a few minutes of privacy.

Turning off the recorder, Brass sat down beside Sara, reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Breathe, Sara, deep breaths."

Sara continued to sob, her entire body shaking as she struggled to draw in a ragged breath, "I would never...I could never...Greg...Not to our babies..."

"I know, I know you wouldn't." Brass soothed, growing increasingly uncomfortable as time progressed, "We had to run a background check on both you and Greg, standard procedure, of course...after learning what I've learned, and knowing you as well as I do...I know there's no way you did this."

"But I killed her." Sara sobbed, her head still buried into her arms, "I wasn't watching her closely enough...I let her get too far away...I should have known she'd take off...It's my fault. You may as well arrest me right now, I'm a murderer."

Brass was silent for a moment, before whispering, "Sara, friend or not, don't you think you'd already be sitting in a cell if I thought you had done anything to harm that little girl?"

"It's my fault." Sara sobbed, ignoring Brass's attempts at comfort, "Mine."

--

"I may be guilty of slow reactions or bad decisions, but I have never abused my wife or my children." Greg said angrily, pushing himself to his feet, "I'm done here."

"Your daughter, Christine Sanders, will be placed in protective custody until this investigation is complete." the detective replied, standing as well, "Standard procedure, as I'm sure you know."

Greg walked into the hallway, his lip quivering with tears he was struggling to hide. He barely budged when Chrissy raced to him, throwing herself in his arms, "Daddy!"

"Chris, sweetie..." Greg whispered softly, leading her to a bench and sitting down with her on his lap,. "Mommy and Daddy have to answer some more questions with the police officers...you'll have to stay with someone for a bit until this is all fixed, okay?"

"With who?" Chrissy asked softly, "Grandma?"

"I...I don't know." Greg replied, suddenly realizing he didn't have any clue where his daughter would be going. He looked at the officer for help, but before he could speak, another familiar voice broke through the tense air.

"She can stay with me. We'll have fun, right Chrissy?"

Greg turned quickly to see Catherine standing a few feet away, obviously tired as she was just getting off work, "You can do that?"

"Grissom's had some strings pulled, and since it's only for a few days...we don't want her going to Social Services." Catherine replied with an affirmative nod, "Unless that's not okay with you."

Greg shook his head, "It's fine, thank you. I...I just...it's all so much right now."

Giving him a sympathetic hug, Catherine took Chrissy's hand, "Ready to go?"

"Can we get ice cream?" Chrissy asked excitedly, "Is Lindsey going to be there?"

Greg watched as the two walked away, sinking back to the bench with a groan. Could things possibly get any worse?

He looked up as the door opened and Sara stumbled out, her face blotchy with tears. He stood, taking a few steps towards her, only to have her pull away from him darting down the hall and into the ladies' room.

What was he thinking? Things could always get worse.

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes: Thanks to Emmithar for making sure I finished this tonight. Thanks for everyone who's reading. Replies are adored. They make chapters get written quicker. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Six:**

Adjusting his black tie, Greg made his way down the hall to the guest room; it was the place where Sara had been staying since the morning at the police station. Knocking softly on the door, he let himself in, not too surprised to see Sara buried underneath a pile of blankets, unmoving and unwilling to acknowledge his presence.

"We're going to be late if you don't start getting ready." Greg said quietly, waiting for some sort of response from his withdrawn shell of a wife. "Remember? Sadie's funeral?"

Sara didn't budge, only muttering a response that had Greg both disgusted and shocked.

"What do you mean, you aren't going?" Greg demanded angrily, "Of course you're going. It's your daughter's funeral, the least you could do is show her a little bit of respect."

"I'm not going." Sara repeated, a little louder this time, "You can go if you want to, but I'm not going to watch my baby girl get lowered into the ground."

Greg groaned loudly, slamming his hand against the door, "Damn it Sara, this isn't the time for a pity party! Get dressed and meet me downstairs, I won't let you do this!"

"You won't _let_ me?" Sara replied angrily, flying off the bed in one quick movement, "You, of all people, have no right to tell me what I can and can't do!"

Greg remained silent, slightly afraid of his now livid wife as she pushed him against the door, her voice low and lethal, "If it wasn't for you, Sadie and Chrissy would both be safe and sound under our roof! You always loved Chrissy more, and your favoritism left Sadie out in the cold. She longed to have a piece of your heart like Chris did! If you had paid her just a little bit of attention once and awhile, she wouldn't have tried to get to you so badly at the park! If you had been half a decent father, she'd still be alive today!"

"Don't you dare blame this on me." Greg replied heatedly, pushing her away, "When Sadie was born, you didn't want Chrissy or I to have anything to do with her. You kept Sadie to yourself, doting on her, taking her shopping, teaching her how to do everything that we had worked together to teach Chrissy. You had a hard time bonding with Chris, and I wasn't going to take that away from you with Sadie. Don't you dare act like I didn't care about that little girl, because I love her more than the world. I'm a good father, I'm a good person, and I won't let you accuse me of anything less! You agreed to watch Sadie, and in the end, you failed to follow through. It was an accident, Sara, an accident. Let it go. There doesn't always have to be someone to blame!"

In one swift motion, Sara had knocked all of the books off the nearby table, flinging one towards Greg angrily, "She was two years old, Greg! She just wanted her Daddy! But no, you couldn't wait to run off with Chrissy and leave Sadie behind. You were always like that. You don't even deserve to go to her funeral, you were hardly a father to her. Because of your failure at fatherhood, I've lost the one thing I truly loved."

"The _one_ thing?" Greg shouted, inching closer towards his wife, "So where the hell does that leave Chrissy and I? Now aren't _you_ the one playing favorites? You are so hypocritical sometimes, it makes me sick! It must be hard to keep track of all of these double-standards, though, isn't it?"

Turning away from Greg, Sara muttered, "You just don't understand, okay? Sadie was special to me. Chrissy adores you, she hates me. Sadie loved me. And now she's gone."

"How is moping in this room going to change any of that?" Greg countered, taking a step towards the door, his face filled with disgust, "I thought you were more mature than this, Sara, but I guess I was wrong."

He closed the door behind him, and Sara instantly rushed to open it once more, screaming loudly, "I wish you had died instead! Don't even bother to come back tonight, you aren't welcome!"

Her only response was the resounding slam of the front door.

--

"Where's Sara?" Nick asked worriedly, taking a seat behind Greg and squeezing his shoulder tightly, "Is she okay?"

Greg turned to face his friend, Sadie's godfather, with teary eyes, "She didn't want to come...she's still having a hard time accepting what's happened. Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. The others should be arriving soon. How are you holding up, man?"

"Surviving." Greg replied quietly, turning back to face the front of the quiet church, forcing himself to focus on the stained glass portraits so his tears wouldn't fully come to the surface. The last thing he wanted to happen was for him to have a nervous breakdown in front of his friends and family.

He looked up as his sister quietly walked towards the casket, a crumpled tissue in her hand as she turned away from the small body, shaking with sobs. Normally, Greg would have reached out to comfort her, but today he found himself unable to move.

She staggered to the front pew, taking a seat beside Greg as she sobbed harder. "She looks so..."

"Innocent." Greg supplied quietly, his voice catching slightly in his throat, "Young, beautiful, and innocent."

"A little angel." Crystal Sanders replied softly, leaning against Greg's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her, "Greg, I'm so sorry."

Greg tightened his grasp on his 21 year old sister, Sadie's godmother, and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, "It's not your fault, Crystal. It was an accident...her time to go..."

"I don't want to have to leave after the funeral...I wish I could stay and make sure you're okay." Crystal whispered softly, "Damn school..."

"I'll be fine." Greg replied quietly, "Don't worry about me, you just concentrate on graduating. I'll call you."

Crystal wiped away a few more tears with her battered tissue, "At least you have Sara to keep you sane."

Greg remained silent, a lone tear falling onto his cheek. Sometimes he felt like Sara had drifted farther away than Sadie had.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Chrissy's presence until she flung herself into his arms, with a high pitched, "Daddy!"

"Hey sweetheart!" Greg said with a bright smile as he tightly hugged his daughter, "Are you having fun with Auntie Catherine?"

"Lindsey's so fun!" Chrissy exclaimed excitedly, "We colored and she helped me dress all of the barbies and bring them to a prom. And she knows the best scary stories."

"Don't worry, they aren't too scary." Catherine said quietly, taking a seat besides Greg, "Can I get you anything?"

"Can you work magic?" Greg countered quietly, tears threatening to spill over as he stroked Chrissy's hair gently, enjoying every moment of their embrace, "How's she behaving?"

Catherine smiled, patting Chrissy's back, "She's a total gem. No trouble at all. How are things at home?"

"We're managing." Greg replied tensely, taking a calming breath as he remembered he couldn't show his displeasure in front of his daughter, "Thank you, Catherine, for everything."

Catherine offered him a small smile with a quick hug, "It's what friends do."

"Daddy," Chrissy asked, pulling away from Greg slightly, "Can I come home with you today?"

"Not yet." Greg replied, tears clouding his vision, "Soon, baby, I promise."

Chrissy frowned, laying her head on Greg's shoulder, "But I really want to."

"I know you do, sweetie, but you can't right now." Greg whispered, "Think of how much fun you're having with Catherine and Lindsey."

"It's not as much fun as it is with you and Mommy." Chrissy muttered, "Where's Mommy? Aunt Catherine said that Mommy would be here too."

Greg's face contorted into a slightly pained expression as he replied quietly, "Mommy's at home...she..."

"Mommy wasn't feeling well." Crystal supplied, seeing Chrissy starting to get upset, "Do you want to sit with me?"

Chrissy shook her head, a frown on her face, "I want my Mommy."

"Mommy's at home, sweetie."

"Then I want to go home!" Chrissy exclaimed, attracting the attention of nearly the whole church, "Daddy, please! I want to go home! I want to see Mommy! I want my toys and my bed! Please Daddy, take me home, take me to see Mommy! Please!"

Tears stung Greg's cheeks as he shook his head, "Baby, you can't come home right now. I'm sorry that Mommy isn't here and you thought she would be, but you'll just have to see her another time."

Chrissy started to cry, jumping off of his lap to stomp her foot when the crying didn't allow her to get her way. With a loud wail, she protested, "I want my Mommy! I want my Mommy!"

"Chrissy! Stop that right now!" Greg hissed quietly, grabbing her arm and pulling her near him, "This is not the way we behave in public!"

"Let go of me! Don't touch me! I hate you!" Chrissy yelled, pulling away from her father, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I hate you!" Turning away from Greg, she ran down the church aisles towards the front door, her loud sobs resonating in the quiet church.

Greg leaned back dejectedly, his head falling back so he could look up at the high ceiling. She was just like her mother, more than either would care to admit. With an aching heart, he couldn't help but be reminded of his earlier altercation with his grieving wife. The three most important people in his life were now gone.

He remained still as Crystal leaned against his slumped form, sympathy filling her blue eyes, "Greg, she didn't mean it, you can't take it personally."

"I've failed her. I've failed all of them."

"Greg, you can't--"

The organist started to play, cutting off Crystal's statement, and Greg angrily wiped away his tears...the morning dramatics were just a preview, the worst was yet to come.

--

The door shut with a soft click, and Greg loosened his tie, tossing the room key carelessly onto the beside table. He should be at home right now, not holed up in some off-strip hotel, alone and miserable.

He stepped into the room, turning on the lights with an audible sigh. The room was filthy, although he couldn't tell if that impression was just due to the 70's decor still proudly displayed. Taking a few steps in, only to hear the crunch of a cockroach beneath his feet, he came to the realization that this wasn't just a hotel...it was a hotel where one wound up after reaching rock bottom.

He tossed his jacket onto the bed, reaching over to turn the dial on the small 13-inch television, only to find static. With a loud groan, he kicked the television stand, cursing when the screen went completely black. What the hell was he supposed to do alone in a hotel room, without a working tv?

Standing, he began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't need entertainment as much as he needed a long, hot shower...provided the bathroom wasn't roach infested. He moved to throw the shirt onto the bed, but looking at the condition of the room, he decided to hang it in the bathroom. Shaking his head at his ragged reflection in the smudged mirror, he realized he'd have to go back for some of his belongings in the morning. Hopefully, Sara would have cooled off by then.

Reaching into the shower, he turned the rusty knob, only to be disappointed when nothing happened. As he pulled back the mildewed shower curtain, he nearly gagged at the rust and soap scum buildup filling the dingy tub. With a grimace, he slid his shirt back on. There had to be something he could do to unwind from such a trying day.

Sitting down on the bed, he decided that it wasn't worth taking the chance to look between the sheets while still sober. A few beers always seemed to make the bad seem tolerable, and after the week he had suffered through, it was definitely time. Sliding into his shoes, he snatched the room key from the table, letting himself out into the musky hallway. In this part of town, even the sleaziest of hotels had a bar.

An hour he staggered into his hotel room once more, relaxed by thethree scotch-and-waters he had dared to try in the bar, along with the bottle of whiskey he had gotten from the corner store on the next block. Sitting on the bed, he pulled out a medicine bottle, fumbling to open the top.

He lost one daughter, the other now hated him. His wife wanted nothing to do with him, and he was now living in a hotel that even the cheapest hookers wouldn't dare to try. How could things get any worse? Was it even possible? Slipping a pill into his mouth, he chased it with a swig of whiskey, grimacing at the bitter taste.

He made a motion to recap the pill bottle, but hesitated, rolling the bottle between his fingers as he began to contemplate his unspoken option.

They probably wouldn't miss him. Sara would be glad to be rid of him, there would be no more accusations, no more pain. He'd be reunited with his precious daughter once more. What was there to keep him from taking the whole bottle? He had lost everything he had once cherished, there was nothing more that could be taken from him at this point.

Pouring the small white pills into his hands, he closed his eyes tightly. He could either lay in his rancid hotel room, lonely and miserable, or he could escape the pain. Popping a few more pills into his mouth, he realized there was only one choice he could make. It was now or never.

_TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's notes: Thanks to all who replied. Replies make me happy, and they make me write faster:-) I also like bribes. _

_Thanks to Emmithar for checking this for me!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Seven:**

Sara slammed her hand down on top of the alarm clock, cursing quietly under her breath as she kicked the covers off and forced herself into a sitting position. Her head throbbed unmercifully and her stomach knotted as the aftereffects of a three day drinking binge began to take it's toll on her weary body.

She stood tiredly, her hand pressed against her head as she was overcome with dizziness, and with unsteady legs she somehow managed to make it to the bathroom before getting ill. This wasn't necessarily the best way to start her first official night back at work, but it wasn't as if she had anyone keeping her from coping this way.

She had lost her daughter, her other was taken. In a fit of rage she had kicked Greg out, and he hadn't even bothered to call in the three days since Sadie's funeral. Staggering to the sink, she turned on the water and splashed some of the ice cold moisture onto her face. She let her eyes close and took a few steadying breaths. She could do this, it would just take a little bit of concentration and willpower to leave her demons at home.

She inhaled deeply, moaning when the motion triggered her gag reflex and sent her back to her knees, sprawled in front of her toilet. She began to sob quietly, rubbing her knuckles against her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears.

Sidles don't cry. She had been taught that at a very young age. Sidles don't cry, and they don't air their dirty laundry in public. She couldn't go to work like this, she couldn't let her friends see her as weak and unstable. She had to get it back under control. She had done it once, she could do it again.

Weakly reaching up for the counter top, she pulled herself to her feet, mentally berating herself as she wavered slightly. This wasn't the time to be weak. She had to go back to work, face her life, pretend like her heart wasn't shattered into a million pieces. She had taken a week off from work, that should be plenty enough to get back into the swing of things. But, if that was the case, why did she feel like crying every waking minute that she wasn't heavily intoxicated?

She glanced back towards her bed, spying the half-empty bottle of Everclear sitting on the table. The cause of her physical pain, but the cure for her emotional pain. She stumbled back to the bed, grabbing the bottle and easily twisting off the cap. She brought the cold glass to her lips before jerking the bottle away, aghast that she'd even consider drinking before work. She recapped the bottle, stashing it behind her pillow as she glanced at the clock.

She had only an hour before she'd be late, and she wasn't even sure if she had clean clothes. Maybe she should just call in for the night. She could stay home and drown her misery in a bottle, alone, where no one could hear her cries, and no one would have to know that she was slowly falling apart. She reached for the phone, hesitating as her hand contacted the black plastic. She couldn't do this, she had to pretend like she was at least making an effort. She had to show everyone that she was strong, resilient, unlike Greg who could barely hold himself together. She was the strong one. She had to be. Sidles weren't weak. Sidles didn't share their problems, their sorrows with the world. She couldn't let anyone see her like this, she had to rebuild the wall that separated her from the outside world. There was no other option.

She moved towards the closet, hoping she had something, anything she could wear to work that didn't reek of stale booze and cigarette smoke. Glancing down at her stained night shirt, she shook her head. She'd have to take a shower as well. She couldn't sit around moping with so much left to do before the biggest performance of her life.

Pulling a pair of slacks and a short sleeved top off their hangers, she tossed them onto the bathroom counter, turning on the water with a heavy sigh. She had to forget about Sadie, forget about Chrissy, forget about Greg. It wasn't about them, tonight, it was about taking criminals off of the streets. That was the only thing that mattered.

She stepped into the shower, closing her eyes as the hot water cascaded over her shoulders and hair, She could do this. She had to. She was strong enough to pretend like everything was okay. With a frown, she couldn't help but laugh as she was reminded that she had drowned herself in alcohol over the last few days. She obviously wasn't strong enough to fight a lifelong battle with the bottle. She wasn't an alcoholic, but neither were her parents when they started drinking. By the time they finished, however, they were behaving in ways that could put addicts to shame.

Visions of her parents flashed before her closed eyes, and she had to refrain from vomiting once more. She could never picture them individually, although she knew there was a point where she had been able to distinguish the happy times from the miserable times. The trips to the park from the beatings. The living from the dead. Swallowing back a throat filled with bile, she leaned her head back into the stream of water, letting the heat fall onto her face, penetrating her clammy skin. She wasn't like them. She didn't drink for recreation. She didn't abuse her kids, no matter what the police thought of her or her husband. She wasn't going to be defeated by her weaknesses. The drinking was to get her through the tough times, she rarely drank when things were running smoothly.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, she fought to replace bloody images of her parents with something a little less disturbing. Instead, her mind chose to replay the fight she had with Greg the morning of Sadie's funeral. She had been so cold, so cruel to someone who didn't even deserve a bit of the guilt she had thrown at him. If anyone was guilty for Sadie's death, it was her. If anyone was guilty for not loving their family enough, it was her. If anyone was guilty of doing the wrong thing, it was her. The haunted, pained look on Greg's face haunted her memories and she instantly snapped her eyes open, bending forward as she tried not to be sick. She didn't blame him for not wanting to come back, she didn't blame him for not bothering to call. In his position, she would have done the same. Or worse. She was honestly surprised she hadn't been served with divorce papers yet.

Grabbing a towel, she turned off the water, stepping into the steam-filled room and running a washrag across the mirror to look at herself. She could barely recognize the face staring back at her, a realization that scared her more than anything in her past ever could. Shaking her head, she wiped away her tears, clenching her fists and forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't go to work with red-rimmed eyes and pink cheeks, nor could she take the easy way out and call in sick. This had to be done, and it had to be done right. Sara Sidle was not a weak little girl who couldn't control herself at work. She had to show them she could pull through and be just the same as she was before. She could do it. She had to.

--

"Where's Greg?" Nick asked, surprised to see Sara walking in alone. "I thought you both were coming back to night? Is he okay?"

She shrugged, managing a small frown as she opened her locker door , "I don't know."

Nick did a double take, asking worriedly, "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know. What else do you want me to say?" Sara replied, throwing her change of clothes and purse carelessly into her locker, "I just don't know."

Slamming the locker shut, she brushed past him and made her way towards the break room, desperate for a steaming cup of coffee.

He finally caught up to her at the coffeepot, concern evident in his voice as he asked, "Are you two fighting or something? How can you not know?"

Sara was saved from a response as Grissom walked into the break room, two slips of paper in his hand. "Welcome back Sara...where's Greg?"

"She doesn't know." Nick spoke up crisply, a definite edge to his voice.

Grissom gave Sara a concerned look, but didn't comment as he held out the two slips of paper, "Nick, you and Warrick have a home invasion. Sara, db off the strip. Cath's on her way down there, please meet her."

Silently, Sara took the slip of paper and stalked out the door, the loud flopping of her shoes audible as she hastily walked down the hallway.

She wasn't sure if she was more upset over Greg's absence or having to work with Catherine--after all, the woman had all but stolen her only living daughter--, but whatever the trigger was, she couldn't stop the hot flow of anger through her veins. Shaking her head angrily, she glared at the clock. It was only a few hours, she could deal with the emotion for a few hours, then she could go back to her house and drink the pain away, until the next night. It wasn't necessarily a fun agenda, or even a good one, but it was all she needed to give her the push to head towards the crime scene, where Catherine was waiting.

--

The overwhelming odor of decomposing flesh met Sara's nostrils the moment she neared the hotel room. Nearing the room, she noticed the blonde CSI talking quietly to the officer at the door, getting the sketchy details of what the police knew so far. There was no ID on the body, although they hadn't looked far, and they were in the process of locating the manager to check the hotel records. Walking up to Catherine, she managed a small smile, "What do we have?"

"Neighbors noticed a smell, called the front desk, they in turned called us when the tenant didn't answer. Room had a do-not-disturb sign. We got the master key to let ourselves in and found him lying on the bed."

Sara nodded, motioning to Catherine that she was going to go in. Catherine gave a quick nod, taking down the responding officer's name before following. Catherine hadn't made it more than a step into the room when she was frozen by Sara's horrified scream.

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes: We're at the end of yet another story. Thank you for everyone who read and reviewed, you guys have been my driving force through this story. And for those who read and didn't review, I hope you enjoyed (is that the right word for an angst-fic?) Reading. _

_Thanks Kegel for Beta reading this for me...and pointing out some glaringly obviously boo-boos...you're a lifesaver! And also thanks to Emmithar_ _for a bit of well-needed guidance. _

_I love reviews! Especially "end of the story" reviews!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Eight:**

Sara's screams echoed through the hallway, and although it took Catherine no more than five seconds to get to the brunette, it felt like a lifetime as terror seized her heart. Stopping a few feet from the brunette, she was finally able to focus on what her hysterical colleague had stumbled across.

Her first instinct was to shelter Sara, who was staring intently at the body through glazed eyes and shallow breathing. Grabbing her shoulder, she forced the brunette to turn towards her and with a choked sob, Sara buried her head into Catherine's shoulder, her body violently shaking as her legs began to give way.

Both fell to the floor as Sara crumbled, clinging tightly to the older woman as she was overcome with hysterical, heartbreaking sobs, her fingers grasping Catherine's shirt tightly as she tried to draw in a ragged breath.

Unable to tear her eyes away from the bed, Catherine gently stroked Sara's hair, unable to find the right words to say to make the situation any better. What could she say? Nothing could erase the past, nothing could bring him back, nothing could possibly make a difference to the devastated woman in front of her.

As she tried to console the desolate Sara, Catherine's mind numbly wandered to the little girl sleeping on the floor in Lindsey's room. How were they going to tell Chrissy that she had now lost not only her baby sister, but her father as well? She could almost hear the child's voice asking if she could go home to her Mommy...how was she supposed to tell her no? How much more could one family take?

She tore her eyes away from the body as bile started to rise in her throat, and with a gentle whisper, she tried to pull Sara to her feet, stopping immediately as Sara's grasp tightened and the younger woman's sobs intensified. With one arm on Sara's back, the other on the floor, she whispered softly, "We need to get you out of here."

"Don't leave me. Please don't leave me." Sara murmured through her choking sobs, "Don't let go."

Catherine fought her own tears as she cradled the brunette in her arms, unsure of whether Sara was talking to her or to the ghosts of her past. Either way, she wasn't going to abandon Sara when she needed support the most.

Gently stroking Sara's hair, she responded soothingly, "I'm right here, we need to get outside, okay? Can you walk with me outside?"

Sara nodded numbly, barely able to convince her body to relax long enough for Catherine to pull both to their feet. Sara remained unwilling to remove her head from the safety of Catherine's chest and shoulder, her desperate sobs echoing through the small room. The blood rushed to her head as she came to rest on her feet, and with a soft moan, the world around her faded to black.

--

Nick shook his head angrily, slamming the folder down onto the table, "Have you seen this?"

"What?" Grissom asked, peering up at the fuming young man, "What is that?"

"A background check on the employees working at the preschool Sadie attended." Nick spat out, "I just got this back from P.D. Don't they have to screen these people before hiring them?"

"They're supposed to." Grissom replied, flipping open the folder and peering onto the summary page, "3 of the 5 primary care givers have a record?"

"Two of them are for battery and assault." Nick fumed, "We're trying to subpoena the preschool's records, and Brass is bringing them in for questioning--"

Nick was cut off by the shrill wail of Grissom's phone. With an impatient frown, he sighed and begin to tap his foot as Grissom checked the caller ID.

"It's Catherine, I have to get it." The older man said apologetically, flipping open his phone, "Grissom."

Nick's impatience turned to concern as Grissom's face visibly paled, and as the older man hung up, Nick hurriedly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Catherine and Sara's db...it was Greg." Grissom replied softly, his voice revealing the shock he was feeling. "I'm going to meet Catherine to work the scene, follow me there so you can bring Sara home."

--

"Sara, please let me in." Nick spoke gruffly against the locked bedroom door, "Please Sara. If you don't open it, I'm going to kick it down."

"Go away!" Sara sobbed loudly, barely lifting her head from her tear-soaked pillow, "If you don't leave, I'm going to call the cops!"

Nick sighed heavily, "I'm just worried about you, Sara."

Sara ignored him, burying her head into Greg's pillow and inhaling deeply. He hadn't slept in this bed for days, but it still smelled just like him. Drawing her knees to her chest, she painfully cried, her mind flashing back to the last words she had spoken to him.

"_I wish you had died instead! Don't even bother to come back tonight, you aren't welcome!"_

Pain clenched her heart as her cold words echoed through her tired mind. How could she have been so cruel to the man she loved so dearly? How could she not have seen that he was hurting just as badly as she was? Why did she have to push him away? She had been so cruel, so cold, when all he wanted to do was make sure she was going to be okay. At least, okay as either of them could be under the circumstances. Instead of accepting his concern and sharing in his grief, she had shut him out so tightly that he felt as if he was alone.

This wasn't Greg. Greg wouldn't commit suicide. Greg was too strong for that, too full of life. There had to be a mistake. It had to be staged...a trick of some kind. There was no way that her Greg would ever take his own life. It was one of the things he despised most in the world, the 'coward's way' to go. Her Greg would never do something so drastic. It couldn't be him, she had to be dreaming or hallucinating or...drunk. That was the only possible explanation for this development.

"Sara? Please open the door."

Sara lifted her head, ready to scream at the Texan once more, but after hearing the anxiety in his voice, she decided to go ahead and face him, she was going to have to sooner or later. After all, he was the one who had taken her from Catherine at the hotel and brought her home to break down in solace, instead of in front of half of the LVPD. It wasn't his fault that she had kicked Greg out, it wasn't his fault that she was so full of bitter and resentment that she didn't realize how close to the edge Greg had been.

She inhaled deeply, the unique mixture of aftershave and shampoo from Greg's pillow causing her body to tingle. She could almost feel him in their bedroom as she closed her eyes, and she began to wonder if maybe this whole thing was a big drunken hallucination. Greg's presence was too strong for him to be gone. Maybe he hadn't left at all? Maybe the last few days had been some sort of alcohol-induced nightmare. Maybe she'd open her eyes and find herself resting in the guest bedroom, or better yet, she'd open her eyes and find herself a week in the past, where she could find some excuse for the family to stay home instead of going to the water park. If she could do that, this terrible chain of events would be stopped and she'd still have her warm, loving family.

Smiling softly, she clung to the pillow. If she could just keep her eyes closed, Greg would come back. He'd tell her there was coffee brewing, and that the kids would be up soon. He would whisper that when they went down for a nap, they could light some candles and enjoy a late romantic lunch. He would run his fingers through her hair, telling her how beautiful she was, how lucky he was to have her. And she'd finally get to look up into his deep, caring, loving eyes once more and vow to never fight with him again. If only she could keep her eyes closed, he would live on. This would be a horrific nightmare.

"Sara? Come on, you're really starting to worry me." Nick pleaded, "Please open the door."

As if someone had flipped a switch, the vision of Greg disappeared. This nightmare was a reality. He was really gone. Sadie was really gone. Chrissy was living with another family because the LVPD and social services were too backlogged to give her case prompt attention. She was left completely alone, in a home that was just too big for one person. Pictures of her family were plastered over every wall, as if a taunting reminder of what she had lost, and how truly alone she was.

She was no stranger to loss. She had lost a father, then a mother. She had moved from family to family, afraid and unable to establish roots. She had been terrified to settle down with Greg, but he had convinced her that he'd never leave her, that he was in for the long haul. All she had to do was love him in return. She hadn't stood up to her word, and he had then broken his in retaliation. It didn't surprise her, it was only a matter of time before something bad happened. They had managed 8 years of happiness and peace before the bottom fell out, as she had known it would. She wasn't allowed to be happy, it was the curse of the Sidle name. Every relationship ended with destruction, every offspring had their vice. Even though estranged from her father's family, it was impossible to escape the genes that made her who she was. It wasn't that she intentionally went to ruin all good things in her life, it was just a byproduct of who she was. Once again, her family was gone and she was left alone to weep for what could have been, what should have been, what would have been if she hadn't made the wrong decisions so many times.

"Sara, please just talk to me." Nick drawled from the doorway, "I need to know you're alright. Please, Sara, don't shut me out."

"Please, just go away." Sara spoke wearily, "I just...can't."

"Let me be here for you." Nick pleaded, "You don't have to be alone...you shouldn't be alone."

"I'm always alone!" Sara screamed, tossing her safety net, the half finished bottle of Everclear from the previous night, at the doorway, watching it break into tiny shards, embedding themselves in the carpet, soaked with the vile clear liquid.

"You aren't alone." Nick replied, desperation outweighing the soothing tone he was trying to imply, "Please Sara, open the door and talk to me. You're scaring me. We don't even have to talk, just let me be with you."

"I'm fine, Nicky, please go away." Sara returned, moving to the doorway as she began to pick up the shards of glass and toss them into the nearby trash can, "I'll call you later."

Nick sighed, and she could almost picture him rubbing his forehead to ward off the impending tension headache. She sadly shook her head, dumping a handful of tiny bits of the broken bottle into the trash. She couldn't let Nick in, she couldn't let him get too close. Greg had gotten too close, and she had drove him to suicide. It was easier to push people away and know they were alive than to let them in and watch them die.

"_I wish you had died instead! Don't even bother to come back tonight, you aren't welcome!"_

How could she have been so cruel to him? So hateful? She had practically forced the pills down his throat with her cold, bitter words. What kind of wife was she? What kind of friend? Mother? As a child, her mother had ruined her family. As an adult, there was no one to blame but herself. She may not have stabbed her own husband to death, but she had pierced him just as strongly with her venomous words. Greg had been a good person, a hundred times more caring, compassionate, fun than Sara had ever dreamed of being, and in a short few days, she had managed to destroy him. What kind of wife does that to her husband? Her best friend? The one person who had taken the time to try and break through her shell? The one person in her entire life who had loved her, faults and all.

"Sara, please let me in." Nick begged, "Please."

She could hear the tears in her friend's voice, but she found herself unable to reach up and push open the lock. Her body was on autopilot, and she found herself barely aware of her actions as the world seemed to crumble around her. She couldn't love her husband. She couldn't protect her kids. She couldn't save herself. She couldn't let him in. She couldn't let anyone else get hurt because of her.

She felt burning pain rise up her arm, and with haunted eyes she looked down at her blood soaked clothes. What had she done? Where was this blood coming from? Numb and weak, she realized that she was bleeding. Heavily. She needed help, and fast..

"Nick?" She called out, weak and uncertain, "Are you still there?"

"What's going on?" Nick asked worriedly, noticing the drastic change in her tone, "Sara, let me in, now."

"Nicky..." Sara whimpered, "Nicky, help me."

Her mind grew fuzzy as the door burst open beside her, and although she could see Nick's lips moving, she couldn't make out the words he was speaking. The terror in his eyes matched the own fear in her heart, and as he pried a shard of glass from her hand, she finally realized what she had done.

"Chrissy...tell Chrissy I'm sorry. That I love her. Watch out for her." Sara mumbled incoherently, "She's better off with Catherine, Cath can protect her."

The room dimmed slightly, and although she couldn't make out the words Nick were speaking, she could clearly see the tears staining his cheeks. She frowned, trying to tell him to stop crying, but she couldn't get her mouth to cooperate with her racing brain.

The room slowly started to fade to black, and as she let her eyes close, only images of her broken family shone through the darkness.

**The End.**


End file.
